


The Name of Honour

by GryfoTheGreat



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Gen, Orphans, Sister-Sister Relationship, guess the parents lol, makoto loves sae and makoto hates sae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7843468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GryfoTheGreat/pseuds/GryfoTheGreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto interviews for Syujin, and tells herself she's not bitter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Name of Honour

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pre-game speculative fic. I have no idea if Makoto is actually like this. I have no idea if Syujin is like this. Basically, I have no clue, _I just really love Makoto okay_
> 
> (Try to guess the parents. I think I made it obvious enough.)

"How old are you, Nijima-kun?"

"Fifteen, sir."

"Hmm." The teacher notes it down. She wonders why he bothered asking. Her date of birth was on the application Sae made her fill out. "You are currently attending Seijou Middle School in Setagaya, correct? Aren't you guaranteed a place in Seijou High School?"

"Yes, sir." She's still in her old uniform; powder blue shirt, navy blue jumper, navy pencil skirt, black tights and shoes. "However - " _my sister got posted to Shibuya and had to drag me along with her_ " - my family has had to move to Shibuya and as such I must attend a more convenient high school." She sneaks a glance at his face and decides he needs a little more buttering up. "Additionally, Syujin is a much more reputable school than Seijou."

She wonders if she laid it on too thick, but the flicker of self-satisfied smile on his face is reassuring. "Your grades are quite satisfactory, Nijima-kun, especially in Japanese. Your extra-curriculars are also remarkable. Your teacher writes that you are one of the best student council members the school has ever had. However, I must say that boxing is an unusual sport for a young lady such as yourself to partake in. Is there any particular reason why?"

Makoto says nothing at first, too angry for words. How dare he pry like that? Does he know? Does he know about Father, how he used to tape her fingers when she bugged him, how he would let her punch his palms with her chubby baby fists and collapse every time she landed a particularly good hit?

This interview is a mere formality. It is not worth getting angry about it. She swallows her ire and answers, smiling all the while; "When I was in elementary school we were taken to a boxing exhibition in Kyoto, and it sparked my passion for the sport. Furthermore, given the times we live in, I feel that it is important for one to learn to defend themself." To her ears she sounds defensive, but if she's lucky the teacher will not notice.

"To defend yourself. Hmm. I am glad that you recognise that this world is dangerous." He uncrosses his ankles and leans forward. “You understand that our student body is unique.”

She does. The spoiled wayward children of government officials, rehabilitated juvenile offenders, and the scions of prosecutors and detectives and even the occasional attorney. Syujin would be a dead school if not for its government sponsorship and exorbitant salaries.

She understands that she will not fit in. She has little interest in spending money, her violence is confined to the ring, and Sae’s new position is not one she can parlay into influence.

But Makoto has no interest in fitting in, she tells herself. She does not need their friendship or affection; all she needs is their respect… and perhaps their fear, too. “I do, Sir. I do not believe it shall present a problem.” She looks at him and goes in for the kill. “I have a motto, of sorts; _per aspera, ad astra._ ”

“Through adversity to the stars,” he mutters, and gives her a genuine smile. Makoto smiles back, secure in her victory, and crosses her hands demurely in her lap.

 

The letter of acceptance arrives precisely one week later. Sae opens it first, because of course she does, and congratulates Makoto with a fancy coffee from the café down the road.

“I knew you'd get in,” Sae says, stealing a sip of her drink. Makoto lets her, because Sae never sleeps enough and she needs the caffeine.

“Me too.” Her sister raises her perfectly groomed eyebrows. “You worked hard to get them to even consider admitting me. I wasn't going to waste your hard work.”

Sae looks at her for a long moment. “You're so like her, sometimes,” she says quietly, and Makoto thinks about her mother, who had such big dreams for her, who taught her that there were no ceilings except those she made herself, that if she reached she would get what she wanted.

“You'll be late,” Makoto says eventually. “Isn't Gotorou in court today?”

Sae grimaces, and Makoto laughs.

When Sae leaves, Makoto sits alone at the breakfast table, staring out of the window at a foreign city, and tells herself that she isn't angry. That Sae had no choice but to go to Tokyo. That Syujin is a good school and that she'll make new friends. That she'll succeed, like her mother would have wanted her to; that she'll flourish, like her father would have wanted her to.

The coffee turns bitter in her mouth. She throws the rest of it down the drain and leaves.


End file.
